Eldar Fan Appreciation (Founder's Pack Giveaway)

The last of the Founder's Packs has been given away. Thank you so much to everyone who participated and everyone who joined in to comment or offer up their own stories. I'm really looking forward to seeing the Eldar in-game and I'm amazed by the community that's already been built around them.

Have fun everyone and see you all on Arkhona

Update 9/16/15I still have 5 packs to give awayUpdate 9/10/15

Hello Everyone!
So, today is the "deadline", but there are only 7 official entries into the competition. I've read every one of them (as well as the "non-official" entries) and loved all of the stories. It's exactly what I was hoping for from everyone. I think the immersion people bring to the Battlefield on Arkona will add so much more depth to this game than we or the devs could have hoped for.

That being said, I'm obviously giving Founder's Packs to each of the 7 people who submitted an entry. I'm just waiting on verification to come back from the devs before I can officially "gift" them to you.

So, what about the other 8 Founder's Packs still available? ---> I'm leaving this competition open until all of the Founder's Packs are given away. If you have friends who want to get into this game for free, just direct them to this thread, have them make a submission following the stated rules and the odds are that they'll get a pack. I'm NOT relaxing standards or anything, so the submission still needs to show the interest and level of effort that all of the winners so far have displayed.

I think it's safe to say that Eldar fans are long overdue for some kind of love or attention.

I've been lurking around the Eldar forums for a while, reading your fan-fic, watching you all build a great community and I've even posted some of my own artwork from time to time.

While reading some of the discussions, I was surprised to learn that there are quite a few Eldar fans who come to the EC forums moreso for the RP or community events than actual anticipation for this game. Some may not even plan to play EC because they have low expectations of how the Eldar will be represented in-game or because they haven't seen anything Eldar-related in the game yet.

I can't say that I blame those folks considering that each week, if you tune in to the Twitch or YouTube streams, you'll be forced to watch the monkeigh Space Marines and Chaos Space Marines fumble around and shoot each other in the face while you loyal Eldar fans look down at them from the tips of your noses (as only an Eldar can) wondering when you will see your beloved Howling Banshees or Warlocks rendered upon your screen in all of their glory.

There were plans for an Eldar-themed Twitch where the devs were going to show us some of their progress on the Eldar race and their respective classes. However, that Twitch was postponed in order to focus all resources on getting Founder's Access started and the game into the player's hands sooner.

While I agree with the decision to get players into the game sooner, that sentiment may not be shared by those who have patiently been waiting for any kind of Eldar news.

So, long story short, I wanted to hold a Founder's Pack giveaway contest geared toward the patient and under-loved Eldar fans.

This DOES NOT mean that the SM, CSM or Ork fans are excluded in any way, but there is a reason why I'm posting this thread in the "Eldar" forums and not in the General Discussion section.

Also, I don't think that there is anyone more fanatical about their race than an Eldar fan (and I mean that as a compliment). If there are any hopes of seeing a bustling RP community in EC, it will be led by the Eldar players out there. I truly hope to see that come true.

So, to help grow the in-game Eldar community, I wanted to offer an opportunity for you loyal Eldar fans to get in the game for free in a way that let's you leverage your creative RP skills.

Here is the contest:Tell me who your in-game Eternal Crusade character is. The story of her or his life so far.

Be as creative and verbose as you wish, but at a minimum, make sure you hit the basic details:
1) How old is your character?
2) Male or Female?
3) What Path are they on?
4) Have they walked any other Paths?
5) Which Shrine do they belong to?
6) Which Craftworld are they from?

Creativity and effort count! Sending me a list of the six bullet points above isn't going to win over someone who's put some time and effort into their submission. I think Eldar fans write some of the best stuff on these forums and I look forward to seeing who your characters are.I'd love to read a short backstory on your character (no max or min word count limits).

The Prizes:
I'll be choosing the 15 (fifteen) best entries to give a Warrior's Pack to.

Here are the rules: (I'm borrowing from the great contests that Kilrane has run lately):

#1) This contest is open only to players who DO NOT have a Founder's Pack on their accounts. (Katie and the mods will be able to help me verify authenticity)
#2) Your entry can be changed up until the cutoff by clicking "Edit" and making your changes. That way I don't have to sift through tons of changes.
#3) Only enter once. Multiple submissions will not be considered.
#4) The contest runs from today until September 10th, 2015. Submissions will be accepted until midnight September 10th (Eastern Daylight Time - I live in Florida).
#5) Contestants have 1 complete week (7 days) to claim their prizes. If winners do not claim them then others will be selected to receive the unclaimed packs.

How to enter:
#1) Comment on this page with your submission.
#2) Once you have commented on this page: send me a private message with the title "Eldar Fan Giveaway" (my Inbox, not my profile wall) with a link to your submission in this thread. Make sure you receive "Submission received." from me. If you don't, there's something wrong with your submission and you need to fix it.

Got a warrior's pack already, but i'd still like to give the story of my dude. I named my character after my roleplaying Eldar so it's basically his story:

Idravel Uajlebak is a 147 years old male eldar currently walking along the Path of the Seer, originating from craftworld Iyanden. In his first decades he joined the Path of the Warrior, to learn how not to be driven insane by the horrors and the bloodshed of the galaxy while defending his dwindling race. After the battle against swarm fleet Kraken he was one of the survivors and felt that after surviving all the horror involved at this monumental battle he'd have seen enough, and started progressing along the Path of the Seer. His psychic potential unfolded steadily, though slower than those of the short-lived, bright-burning younger races. Then came the day when his rune-prophetess Ela'Ashbel told him to embark upon a journey towards the Koronus expanse, towards the planet Holt III. There he was to join a group of mon-keighs under the banner of Rogue Trader Captain Holt, to watch his progress, as the rune prophetess foresaw something vast upon his path, and Idravel has to be there to influence it for the benefit of the eldar.

It was in a (for mon-keighs) ancient ruin of human origin that he found his brothers, four eldar of initially a dozen that survived the onslaught of the ancient foe called necrons. They told him where to find the captain, and he found him and his crew as well as the enigmatic inquisitor Eisenhorn, currently fighting the necrons in trying to deactivate their shield generator. Idravel did it the eldars way: Let the brutish mon-keighs fight their way trough without risking any more eldar lives and simply watched their progress until they came to their goal, defended by a necron lord they already have encountered. Here they needed help, so Idravel showed himself and helped them against the necron. Seeing himself getting below the upper hand the necron tried to flee, and a second time the foolish mon-keighs repeated a previous mistake: Instead of letting the necron get away to have their way free they shot upon his teleporter and destroyed it. The now enraged necron lord used his ancient technology he wanted to spare for a later moment and made himself tough to the point of invulnerability. Idravel tried to get to the control panel to simply turn off the reactor, but in the same moment the mon-keighs opened fire upon the generator, not to hold their hand upon Idravels warning. Idravel saw it coming and ran away at 42 km/h, but still got caught at the fringe of the following explosion. Thanks to his rune armor he survived battered, but not seriously injured, though the mon-keighs took quite some blows and the inquisitor was most badly hurted of all*. Having fulfilled their goal they exited the necron base and let their battle ship rain fire upon the ruin. After their battle was won, as well as the two battles raging between imperial army, space marines and the necron forces, the planet was safe from the necron threat... For now.

After this all the crew had a proper talk with Idravel, who tried to give answers without saying anything. Especailly the continuing questions of Captain Holt for trading routes with the Eldar had to be silenced by feeding him excuses like "The phantom crystals currently sing in c-mol and not d-dur, so we cant deliver atm, sorry". It showed they already had encountered Eldar, and had enough of the talk of fate and chance, so they turned away their attention quickly and treated Idravel as a "normal" crew member.

The next significant enounter was a party to honor the dawn of the new millenium: Long story short it turned out as a trap where all of the crew as well as some other significant persons were locked in a apartment while their biggest crime was announced per loudspeakers. Idravel had sacrificed a whole planet of the imperium to divert some tyranid forces, so he wasnt in the best position being caged up with imperial dudes and all. After a lot of mistrust between everybody, a crazed inquisitor and a helpless doctor humilitated by the unspeakably cruel Captain Holt Idravel left the building with Holt, his tech priest, the consciousless other crew members and a strong desire to barbeque Captain Holt from within. ** In the aftermath a puppet of U.N. nown, the faceless host of the party, G.E. Brainwash visited the ship to give his excuses to the Captain who promptly tried to torture him too to convince him to give his companies to him, upon which a cortex bomb detected the stress hormones and blew out the poor fellows brain. How good Eldar have such a composure and how bad he still is of such importance to the rune prophetess plans...

Then it became apparent that two surviving nightlords of previously eight upon the rogue traders ship have stolen a transport ship and traveled to the planet (named after the not at all greedy captain if it escaped notice). Instead of leaving this matter on its own they followed them into the underhives, and of course the wooden hammer (in german it's "Holzhammer", with wooden hammer method describing brute force as solution for everything, dunno if viable in english...) mon-keighs didn't even take 5 minutes to have a raging battle with all the underhive gangers going on. They just were to ask questions... Idravel simply leaned against some plants and watched the peak of evolution beat the crap out of themselves, when suddenly the night lords announced they have come back to bring their nightmares to life and attacked the captain. After seeing the tide of battles again turned against Holt and his Crew who bit out their teeth (as well as rocket launchers) against the servo armor he finally uncovered his psychic potential and evaporated the marines with a single thought.***

So after all the planet seemed safe enough to be officially introduced into the imperium as imperial colony, and in a great celebrity where the mon-keighs drunk themselves to oblivion with some great figures of imperial society like Abraham Gaunt (in which Idravel tried not to be near the puking primates) the band got cut: Holt III is a official planet. And just in that moment a imperial battlefleet arrives: 76 regiments of the imperial army, 7 chapters of the adeptus sororitas, 27 companies of the Blood Ravens, unkown elements of the Officio Assassinorum and several elements of the Adeptus Mechanicus as well as the Departmento Munitorium. A crusade is to begin... A crusade that may bring Idravel to a far away planet called Arkhona

Well, in RPG terms the crusade will happen in the Koronus expanse, but its just too good a coincidental starting point to not be used for the EC character

*YES! They did what 3 books couldn't do: They killed Gregor Eisenhorn. Though he as NPC burned a fate point to survive.
** It was clearly a trap from the start, but everyone got a fate point to survive if killed or to keep as a prize if surviving.
*** Mentions á la "The eldar beanpole can't to nothing in hand to hand combat" were silenced

Well then, I suppose I'll join in this. I'm by no means an expert on Eldar Lore, however I think this is something that could happen.

The Craftworld Ulthwé was always near the Eye of Terror in an eternal vigil. Protected by the Seers, The most difficult and longest path of the Eldar there was little time for other things, however, society still needed other things, work, culture, and the warriors who fought.

Andraina was the daughter of of a line known to have most of their members lose themselves to the Path of the Artisan (and a few becoming noted Harlequins.) Their art, the verse, poetry and song. It was a pride that even the young Andraina was proud to be a part of. However, her destiny changed.

All Eldar not part of the Path of the Warrior would serve in the Guardian corp in sometime of their lives. Due to the proximity to the Eye, Ulthwé's Guardians are even more completely trained and more skilled then most Craftworlds. Andraina took to Military training well in between her studies of verse and song. Naturally, 'She Who Thrist' would launch an attack on their world during the time of her service.

It was her first battle, the Daemons of their great enemy besieged the craft world. A Day into the battle a swarm of Daemonettes broke through the front lines and started heading towards her unit's position. Her brothers and sisters readied to either repel the enemy or die (Most Likely the later.) The fear of death was something new to the girl. Sure, she had read the dirges of her family, the songs of loss and mourning, but it was completely different to feel that terror in front of her. She fired, as they all did, but their cannons strong as they were would only slow the Daemon down.

One of the fell creatures had reached he and had extended out it's talons to begin it's perverse version of slaughter before that talon was severed. The thing wailed as it was split in twain and banished back to the warp. A gallant warrior lady had saved her, a Howling Banshee. This one was an Exarch, a warrior who had joined their souls with a legendary defender of their race. Andraina could almost feel many gentle smiles looking down at the stunned girl through the exalted one's mask. The woman helped the girl up and spoke, "Come young blood, we must continue the song of battle." The girl nodded and the Exarch went to rejoin her sisters.

The battle raged and the Eldar fought with courage and skill. Losses were light, but any loss was disastrous for the craftworld. At the very least, those who were lost would be brought to the Infinity Circuit and not become food for their enemy. Still, Andraina continued onward until the battle was at its end. Something stirred in the heart of the girl. Watching the dance of the Banshees up close. Their close ranged Psychic screams that filled their allies with courage. What did it feel with a sword in their hand? What did they feel when they stared at the sins of their ancestors up close? Andraina wanted to know. She would tread the Path of the Warrior.

After informing her family of her intentions she made her way to the Aspect Shrine of her savior, the Shrine of Shrieking Blade.

Andraina became a full sister, taking to the Blade extremely well. She fought incursion after incursion and was honored to be part of the Arkhona Expedition. She knew not what the Blade Lord needed to do here, but she would do all in her power to bring glory to the Phoenix Lord of her Aspect and her craftworld.

Still, she never forgot her heritage. The girl continued to sing. In battle she moved to the rhythm of her Music singing between Psychic wails and screams from her enemy. In battle she sang of glory and fury. While out, she sang of history, of loss, and of death. Good natured, but with a good bit of common sense, the young woman cares for the armories of her people, but a choice still lays before her now. Will she lose herself upon the path of the Banshee during this great campaign, or will she tap into her psionic potential and join many of her craftworld who walk the Path of the Seer, and become a Warlock to aid her people?

Hello, I'm new to the Warhammer 40k Universe. The only book I have read from it's series are " Ciaphas Cain: For The Emperor" and I loved it (I plan to read more in the future) I really enjoy drawing art, writing is not my strong points. But I have spent a great deal of time writing my character:

Idrial is a 120 year old female Eldar who hails from the Craftworld of Ulthwé. There she delved into the beauty of the arts of her Craftworld however, the countless battles that have torn bloody paths through her beloved realm has taken its toll. Overcome with grief, at the loss of life that she herself wished she could have prevented, Idrial was drawn to the Aspect Temples. There she followed the path of the Howling Banshee, adapting to become a swift hunter. Idrial now endeavours to turn her depthless sorrow into positive actions in the Kharon System. There she is tasked with finding the whereabouts of a lost squad of Guardians on the barren planet of Arkhona.
***
Idrial stood amongst the many charred craters that scattered the lifeless landscape of the doomed world of Arkhona. Once inhabited by the Mon-Keigh thousands of years ago, now it was littered with the debris of war, the population having long ago fallen victim to a land blighted by constant war and strife. Climbing out from the smoked crater, her eyes adjusted to the dust particles thrown against her helmet. Garbed in her Banshee Aspect Armour, that she herself took independence in crafting, the chest was encased in bright colours of gold, elaborately decorated with delicate silver patterns and inscriptions. With her underskirt and vest in colours of red and body draped in a scarlet robe, her armour appeared as a glimmering light against the foul dusked atmosphere of the planet that she now strode upon. She stepped further out of the hostile environment not bothering to watch her footing. If there were any bodies where she now stepped, they were now burning ashes upon the ground.

Above her the city’s crumbling towers stood, seemingly ready to collapse at any possible moment. Idrial could almost smell and taste the smoke inside her mouth, her hand reaching instinctively to cover her enclosed face as she struggled to prevent herself from gagging. The plume of thick, dark smoke which blocked the light from the sun had started to gather around her visor, causing Idrial to wipe the remnants away so as not to impair her vision.

Idrial took a brief moment to remove her war-mask, drawing in a shallow breath, taking great care as not to inhale any of the toxic fumes of the ash that swarmed around her. She glanced at the war-mask she now held within her hands; noting the fine work of craftsmanship that she herself had put into forging the mask. She recalled once walking the Path of the Artisan in her youth, creating wondrous works of great beauty and writing songs of past glories within the confines and safety of the Craftworld of Ulthwé.

“Safety” she whispered to herself. It had dawned on her that those words held little meaning anymore. Her Craftworld had been one of the many victims of the Eye of Terror's earliest formations, the psychic backlash which ripped a hole in reality unleashing untold horrors and daemon monstrosities into their universe. Trillions of Eldar died instantly as ‘The Great Enemy’ was materialised into being. The entire core of the Eldar Empire, their most ancient worlds, most prized works of art and literature, were sucked into the Warp leaving only a nightmarish rift in the universe.

Those few left that escaped the onslaught journeyed deep across the stars, staying hidden and always vigilant of 'She Who Thirst’s’ as its evil forever shadows in the footsteps of the Eldar. Ulthwé was not so fortunate and after being caught into the gravitational pull of the Eye of Terror, it is now under constant attack from the forces of Chaos.

The many works of the Artisan, within the Craftworld that Idrial helped to create and maintain, now lay in ruins. Beautiful works that sought to inspire creativity and evoke passion were forever broken and spoiled. While this in itself was enough to cause Idrial pain, this was not comparable to the suffering caused by the loss of her brothers and sisters. Unable to weep without fearing it would attract the attention of She Who Thirsts, she would write songs and create silver busts in memory of her fallen companions. But no amount of great sculptures or symphonies could ever restore their lives. Their souls forever tormented in the cages of the Warp.

It was on one of those dreaded days that Idrial decided to put down her tools and surrender the Path of the Artisan, turning her grief into a new sense of purpose. By re-forging the delicate past works of her labour into weapons of war, she vowed that not one more Eldar spirit would be lost while she sat cradled away deep inside the Craftworld. She would don the vest of armour and walk the Path of the Warrior. To ensure control over the racked guilt of emotions that plagued her, she would find release in the expression of her sorrow through combat, joining the struggles of her people. She would know the hardships of those who had died defending the Craftworld and her. Taking the first steps towards the Aspect Shrines of those that now lay dead within the halls of the Craftworld, glancing upon the Shrine that would be her life for the years to come. The Shrine of the Crimson Scream.
***
Idrial drew away from her thoughts of the past and back into the present, reminding herself of her objective in finding the Guardian squad that was deployed here. Turning her view towards the plains of a world devastated by war she could see that the land was further disfigured by even deeper craters, the green grass now blackened forever more. The ruined husks of broken war machines lay scattered and the wind shook coats of ash particles everywhere, streaming from the crashed eruptions of old and new ships. Idrial raised her hand out to shield her eyes from the dust clouds that blew into her path. Even the three suns of Arkhona that scorched the horizon in orange, yellow, and white could not diminish the insidious smoke clouds.

Idrial walked further trying to find at least some of the Guardians on the abandoned battlefield, now covered with bleached bones and windswept, battered and molten armour that scattered the harsh landscape. Exhausted she tried to recall when the last time her Craftworld held any real sense of hope during all those years of fruitless struggling. The suns grew hot and the wind began to blow even more wildly, raising more clouds of dust toward her.

As she was bent over, trying to remove the dust out of the corner of her eyes, she saw something… She turned to see it was a tattered flag swaying violently from side-to-side in the gale force wind. Idrial forced her eyes to focus on image of the flag. It was badly torn, but she could make out the golden eye and the large tear that ran down from it. She let out a deep sigh. As she feared it was the Rune Symbol of her Craftworld. The Eye of Isha. It symbolized the sorrow of their goddess after she was separated from her Eldar children.

Beneath the tattered rune flag laid the lifeless hunched sprawled out bodies of her kin. She had found her squad of Guardians or what was still left of them.
Idrial's heart sank.

So many dead.

She painfully looked beneath the broken bloodied masks of the Guardians, a few of those whom she personally knew when she was an Artisan. So many of the simple, badly-matched, valiant Eldar civilians, whose only wish had been to dwell under their Craftworlds in peace. They never wanted riches, never tried to build vast empires, and never harmed anyone. They just wanted to be left alone, by Chaos and anyone else that would harm them. In times of peace they would pursue their normal civilian roles, but because of Ulthwé's enormous reliance on seers and warlocks, the Craftworld had found itself lacking in Aspect Warriors. To compensate, it now enlisted anyone with some knowledge of combat.

She clutched her hands together and cursed, wondering who or what had stolen the lives of her brothers and sisters. A faint humming sound radiated amongst the bodies of the Guardians. Idrial knelt closer to pinpoint the source of the sound. Embodied within the armour guardian was the small spirit stone. It's faint light flicked in a series of rhythms. She remembered that these stones activated at the moment of an Eldar's death. Capturing the psychic energy of that Eldar and preventing it from entering the Warp and being consumed by their hated nemesis ‘She Who Thirsts’.

A loud shriek filled the clouded air. Idrial’s ears were alerted to the high-pitched sounds, she could recognise the distinct hideous noise of the Tyranids anywhere. She rose to her feet in quick succession gripping in one hand her Power Lance and Shuriken Pistol in the other. She searched the landscape of any Hive swarms approaching her location. She saw none, but still she could hear their insectoid clicking and buzzing noises getting louder in unison. Idrial knew she had very little time to spare, she knew that the horrid swarm was approaching from their vile holes from beneath the ground in their pursuit for genetic and biological material in order to evolve and reproduce. It wouldn't be long before they had her surrounded. She stared at her fellow Guardian's bodies that lay crumpled under her. Idrial knew that there was little she could now do for her fellow Eldar, except preserve their spirit stones that now housed their psychic souls. She could at least take some comfort knowing they would be safe aboard the Craftworld and stored inside the Infinity Circuit. Taking no time to mourn them, she grabbed the precious spirit stones in a hurry. She couldn't afford to wait around to burn the remains of her fellow Guardians.

The screeches in the wind drew louder within the smoke ash clouds. Before putting her war-mask back on, Idrial spared a last painful glance to the blood painted fields of her fellow Eldar not far from where she stood. A tear streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the fallen ash and patches of mud, turning black as they dripped down her chin.

She started to walk in the direction back towards from when she came. She would return to her Craftworld to sing the lament song of her fallen sisters and brothers. And would hold hope that one day they would be reunited in both body and spirit. Until then she would continue to support the Craftworld of Ulthwé in battle. She would return to avenge her brothers and sisters in graceful dances of death that would strike terror into their foes, with her psychic shrieks and howls.